


Galvatron in Heat

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galvatron is in heat, Cyclonus copes, and other people get caught in the whirlwind. Pure smutty crack.</p><p>Contains: crack, slash (non-sticky in this chapter, sticky and non-sticky in future chapters), noncon/dubcon (context: Trypticon has no idea what’s going on, but has a decent time of it), tentacle-like cables, a touch of dom/sub, and one seriously confused Combaticon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Galvatron in Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/gifts).



It started in Trypticon.

Galvatron gave Cyclonus that look, the one that made his laser core melt and his every port and plug ache for connection.

He was up against the wall before he remembered that Trypticon was still in dinosaur mode; he would be able to feel everything, see everything. _Are you sure this is wise?_ he thought, but Galvatron pressed close, a hand between Cyclonus’ thighs, fingers dragging along his most intimate seams.

All caution evaporated, and with it went all desire to talk. Only one impulse remained: to serve Galvatron with every fibre of his being.

Hot scrape of lips against his throat, hotter air venting against his armour. He lay himself open, each panel drawing back, each cable twitching, ready to extend at Galvatron’s command.

And the command came quick. Quicker than usual. No tantalising breem of denial, no order to keep his hands to himself, to press them against the wall and wait while Galvatron took the time to enjoy him. No waiting at all, but a swift and brutal flare of Unicronian energy, a furious clanging and clasping.

Galvatron’s cables danced. They coiled around Cyclonus’ legs and arms, tight about his waist. Thrumming hard, they struck together, a coordinated assault on his every exposed port. Energy surged, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. Metal crackled at his back, the wall behind him picking up charge.

He didn’t last long. Who could, at Galvatron’s hands? So strong, so perfect. At the mercy of his cables, pinning him, holding him, completing him.

He went to apologise, but Galvatron’s optics flared, the caution explicit. A cable disconnected, unfurling as it snaked through the air. It wound around one of Cyclonus’ own cables, the connectors touching briefly, a harsh jolt of pleasure that spread black stars through his visual feed.

The cables extended, slinking away from Cyclonus, away from Galvatron. Towards a minor maintenance panel.

There was no time for shock, no time to do anything but hold on as Galvatron plugged them both into Trypticon, and the temperature began to soar.

* * *

“Feeling tingly,” Trypticon said. His voice boomed around the canyon, startling birds and making Brawl’s audials ring.

“Huh?” Brawl glanced up at him. “You what?”

“Me. Feeling. TINGLY!” Trypticon yelled. He lashed his tail, and Brawl’s head bobbed, following the distant movement.

“Uh… I’m on guard duty!” Brawl offered. Technically, Vortex was on guard duty, but they’d swapped shifts for a collection of reasons that Brawl hadn’t understood at the time and couldn’t quite remember.

“Me want Octane,” Trypticon said. His tail came around for a second lashing, dispersing fragments of cactus and chunks of rock.

Brawl snickered, stone chippings plinking against his armour. “Hurhurhur, neat.”

Trypticon lowered his head, and rumbled a growl that shook Brawl to his very bolts. “ME. WANT. _OCTANE!_ ”

“Well you can’t fraggin’ have Octane!” Brawl yelled. “Fragger went an’ defe… de… defectivated!” He folded his arms over his chest, his cannon barrel angling at Trypticon’s large forehead. “So you can’t slaggin’ have him.”

Trypticon snarled and huffed. “Feel weird,” he said, and this time the hint of a whine had entered his voice. “Like want to shoot things, but not angry.”

Brawl shrugged. He frequently wanted to shoot things when he wasn’t angry. “What you want me to do about it?” he said.

“Get Octane,” Trypticon said. He paused as a spark leapt between his claw tips. “Octane understand things. He explain it.”

“Uh…” Brawl said. He backed away; that had been a big spark. “You gone and got broken?” he said.

There was a longer pause, and Trypticon’s optics dimmed. “Not malfunctioning,” he said, after a while. “Least warnings not say so.”

Brawl leant against a rock; this was beyond him. He could stand here and guard Trypticon all duty cycle – provided he didn’t have to stay still, and he could shoot stuff if he wanted – but he wasn’t up to working out what was wrong. “Wish Onslaught was here,” he muttered.

“Not Onslaught, OCTANE!” Trypticon roared. He shuddered, causing the ground to shake.

Brawl clung to his leaning rock. “Awww frag, don’t do that! You got Galvatron on board!”

“Not care about that!” Trypticon shook some more, sparks springing from his hands and between his teeth. “Weird feeling get worse, like need to go fly or fight or...”

Brawl edged around the rock. He’d seen Trypticon fight. Bystanders got flattened. Frag, cities got flattened. And sure it was fun, but only if Brawl wasn’t the one about to get crushed. Or worse, vaporised by a furious Galvatron because he’d let Trypticon go shaking him up.

“Why you hiding?” Trypticon demanded. “This, OUCH!” The volume of his cry left Brawl reeling. “OW THIS ARE NOT FAIR! GO GET OCTANE, OCTANE UNDERSTAND TINGLY FEELING!”

Brawl ducked as a bolt of electricity earthed itself altogether too close to his foot. The sand shimmered, melting to glass. He was beginning to regret having swapped with Vortex.

Trypticon stomped, his stumpy arms waving, the guns in his mouth extending and retracting as though readying to fire. Brawl could feel the cry growing, a deep vibration coming at him through sand and rock before any sound emerged on a frequency that he could hear. He dialled his audials down and covered his head with his hands, torn between awe and a creeping fear that he wasn’t going to make it out of this in one piece. All of a sudden, his leaning rock – now his hiding rock – just wasn’t big enough.

Trypticon threw back his head back and opened his mouth. Brawl didn’t hear what came next, but he felt it, rising up through the ground, throbbing in the air. Sound as a physical force, thumping on his armour, thudding through his laser core. It shook his circuitry and made his every sensor glitch.

It was awesome.

When his senses settled and he could see again, Brawl poked his head above the rock. Trypticon was calmer; the cityformer swayed gently, his claws twitching, but his tail had stopped lashing, and his feet were firmly on the ground.

Brawl leaned forward, lounging on the rock as though that’s what he’d been doing all along. “That was _loud_ ,” he sighed. “You wanna do it again?”

Trypticon’s visor flickered, his optical sensors rebooting. He appeared to think for a moment, then shook his head. “Things good now,” he said. “Tingly feeling all gone.” He stiffened as a hatch opened in his abdominal plating.

Brawl’s core programming took over. Seizing each servo and motor and hydraulic relay, it brought him to attention in a fraction of an astrosecond. A good job too, as Galvatron emerged, that ‘I’m ready to shoot someone, and it could just be you’ smile on his face. Cyclonus was close behind, also smiling.

“You there!” Galvatron snapped, pointing at Brawl. But before Brawl could respond, Cyclonus had whispered something in Galvatron’s audial. Galvatron’s smile widened, and they took flight without another word.

Brawl waited for them to diminish to tiny specks in the clear blue sky before speaking. “So,” he said. “It’s just you and me.”

But Trypticon’s chin was on his chest, and his visor was dark. Only the gentle hum of his systems remained.

“Oh.” Brawl kicked at the ground, dislodging the small puddle of glass. “It's just me.”


End file.
